The misadventures of a Northern steel erector's daughter down South.

That which has annoyed me recently.

Now, I am in absolutely no doubt whatsoever that I live a more than privileged life. Truth be told, I live a wonderful life. I have a supportive family, attend one of the greatest universities in the world, have a strong academic track record, am not hideously ugly (or so I am told), nor am I in a financial position that would render doing all of my food shopping in Marks & Spencers unreasonable. Put to one side the whole education at a state school near Hull, the summers I spent donning a hairnet to work in a packing factory and the couple of years spent living in New Cross, I've lived a very comfortable life. So far. I mean to be honest, as I type this I am also debating whether or not it was wise to eat that bag of M&Ms and popcorn a couple of hours before attending St. John's College's Valentines Superformal Hall. I probably could have just waited seeing as I'll be dining on at least five courses this evening. And I so don't want to look bloated in my new dress from Reiss, especially as I already ate out so much this weekend in London.


Ok, so why the above? Well, I just wanted to clarify before I begin my petulant whinge about that which has annoyed me, that I am truly very appreciative of the lot I've been handed thus far in life. I appreciate very much that I enjoy a somewhat decadent life at the moment. So let's take my sanctimony with a pinch of salt shall we?


Here goes.


Not being explicitly told what the dress code is for events.

If only I had an assistant to guide me in such matters.

I hate it when this happens and I get it wrong.
Take this weekend.
I was supposed to be dining with my partner and some of his family/friends for a birthday at the Ivy Club in London this weekend. I was informed of this fixture about a month ago and asides from really looking forward to it, and the novelty of me attending such a venue providing an inappropriate amount of excitement for my grandmother, I had worked out my outfit down to the earrings, nail varnish, shoes, jacket, scarf, dress, perfume, the particular false eyelashes, you name it. I'd even booked in for a MAC makeover to assure that my make-up was perfect.

You see, the last time I dined with this group I wore a sheer red blouse with a black bra, over-the-knee boots and jeans that were too tight. It was not in keeping with the venue or everybody else's attire. In my defence I didn't have a lot of notice, or clothes with me, and I panic dressed. When I showed my mum later what I had worn she a) laughed, then b) pleaded that I must have been joking, where was the real outfit? And this was from a woman who thinks it's acceptable to wear a Juicy Couture handbag in her late forties. 
So. Given my poor track record with dressing (in)appropriately, I really wanted to get it 
right this time.


Unfortunately a few days before the event we heard that for an awfully sad reason the event was cancelled. Given the circumstances I never gave the Ivy Club another thought.


Day of what had been the Ivy reservation.
Phone call.
"We've decided that we're still going to meet, it would be nice to see everyone and we're just going to go for a casual Chinese. No dress code, we'll let you know where we're meeting later once we've made reservations."


Now, given that it was freezing cold, I had spent the day at Portobello Market, we were going for "a casual Chinese" and I hadn't really packed much else save pyjamas, fresh underwear and a t-shirt change as I was only staying for one night, I didn't think twice about just going in the boots, skinny jeans and v-neck jumper I'd had on all day. I swapped my hold-all for a clutch but all-in-all, I dressed in a manner befitting a casual Chinese.


I should have known.


We met for a drink first. Now when I hear 'let's meet for a quick drink,' I don't automatically assume that we will be meeting in a private bar that smells of rich mahogany and leather with champagne on tap and our own French waiter. The 'casual Chinese' we partook of on a similar note was in the only Chinese restaurant that I've ever been to where you can choose your own lobster. Or where they slice up your duck at the table in front of you. Or where I've got to dine at a table in a private room for that matter. I'm apparently very uncivilised. Both venues were fabulous, with excellent service and glorious food and drink. BUT...


IF ONLY I'd known that everyone else was going to wear dresses, heels, diamonds and fur stoles I might have looked like less of a twat in my winter boots and a jumper. Bloody hell. No dress code my arse.

My college bar and what I imagine when someone says let's grab a quick drink before dinner.

Kind of place I actually get taken to.

Being an embarrassing drunk.


In addition to dressing inappropriately I also like to embarrass myself by spilling red wine all over my partner's father and offering him a blow dry in the bathroom. When I suggested this I genuinely meant to use the hand dryer to dry off the sleeve of his shirt...


ebay


I hate ebay. I HATE ebay. And yet I can't seem to abandon it as my main source of income. The bastards. There is just no end to the manner of ways in which they never cease to do me over.


Recently I sold a Reiss leather shearling jacket. The winner of the auction bid £2 more than the second highest bidder. The winning bidder got in touch to say that she would pay in a couple of days and couldn't wait to receive the jacket. A week passed. "Oh sorry, I'm definitely paying tonight" she responded when I asked if everything was alright. Five days later, still no payment. Three weeks after the auction closed ebay closed the sale and refunded me my fees. The winning bidder had managed to bid for, win and pay for a range of other luxury goods in the mean time. What the hell?  Main problem: with the £200 the initial winning bidder had bid, I'd already bought a load of other stuff. As the adage goes, don't count your chickens...

Recently, I bought what was described as a 'genuine Louis Vuitton pochette clutch.' It arrived. It was fake, and in addition to being fake, it was broken. The zip pull was missing altogether and the strap was torn apart. So I contacted the seller to inform her that unfortunately I would need to return the item, detailing what was wrong with the bag and asking if she could please provide me with a refund upon its return.


Her response: What the hell have you done to it?!
Me: Absolutely nothing save carefully remove it from the packaging.
Her: What the hell?! Send me a picture of the strap
Me: Ok - there you go
Her: OMG I have called ebay to tell them that you have intentionally torn apart the bag! You've broken it on purpose - you've unstitched the strap and torn it apart you bitch!
Me: The strap was not stitched for me to unpick it. It was quite clearly stuck with poor quality glue and that is one of the many reasons that I can tell the item is fake. Louis Vuitton do not glue their handbags together. On that note, you have yet to confirm whether you know that the bag is authentic or not.
Her: I have been made redundant, how could you do this to me?
Me: Honestly, I just want a refund. I'll send it back recorded delivery today. It's fake, it doesn't zip up, the handle is broken. I'm very sorry that you are out of work but it's really not my problem.


The conversation kind of continued along this narrative for two days with her accusing me of being a bitch who had intentionally torn apart her fake handbag and that no one else would want it now and that I was effectively ruining her life and the worst person that had ever lived and that she could no longer sleep at night etc...

Recently I  tried to buy another 'Louis Vuitton Authentic Pochette Clutch.' Now, perhaps it would be fair to say given the previous experience this was stupid. But, this one included the original receipt and was from a seller who had excellent feedback for the purchasing and selling of a range of luxury goods. Three days after payment, "sorry, I can't find the bag. I think I must have thrown it away. Can you just take the refund yourself from my paypal account?"
a) who just throws away a Louis Vuitton clutch?
b) If I had the ability to take whatever money I wanted out of people's paypal accounts I wouldn't be a poor student buying second hand designer handbags on ebay. I would be a millionaire. In jail.



Recently I sold a pair of skirts I had purchased from Topshop. Buyer left neutral feedback claiming that they were not from Topshop. They were from Topshop.


Recently I sold a ring on ebay from Topshop. I detailed in the listing that it was small. Received neutral feedback because it was 'beautiful but too small.'



Recently I sold an All Saints shirt. The buyer got in touch to say that she wasn't too keen on the colour, could I offer the top to the second highest bidder. So I did. Second highest bidder was thrilled and asked if I could forward contact details. Original buyer decided that she liked the colour after all.


Recently I sold a pair of Russell & Bromley boots that had been worn literally once in the house. I received an angry e-mail from the buyer claiming that they were in unwearable condition and completely broken. I knew that this was utter bollocks but there's not too much sellers can do on ebay save apologise, issue a full refund and pray for no worse than neutral feedback. Received boots back, as good as new. Took them to a cobbler, he confirmed that they were good as new. Purchaser insisted in feedback that the sole was missing and that they were completely unwearable.


It just goes on and on and on. I could think of dozens more examples like the above but why bore you any more than I already have.


Having a NSFW blog and under 18's following you.


Buying anything in the sale only for it to be reduced further the next day.


Swapping your Spanish Class because you get 50% off at Cafe Rouge and Strada on a Monday night with your union membership card and you don't want to miss such an offer just for a Spanish Class. New Spanish class is supposedly the same level but appears so advanced that it makes no sense whatsoever. Sits between star pupil who already has an A-Level in Spanish and the girl who cries each week because she can't do it.


Gets beautiful watch for 21st Birthday. Younger sister by two years feels she is entitled to a watch 6 x as expensive come her birthday because "she's worth it." Parents seem to agree.